Czeslaw Milosz

An Hour

Leaves glowing in the sun, zealous hum of bumblebees,From afar, from somewhere beyond the river, echoes of lingering voicesAnd the unhurried sounds of a hammer gave joy not only to me.Before the five senses were opened, and earlier than any beginningThey waited, ready, for all those who would call themselves mortals,So that they might praise, as I do, life, that is, happiness.